Fortissimo

By annee loves sasusaku

Disclaimer: I don't own La Corda d'Oro or the lyrics used.

Author's note: Yup. Another story. The plot bunnies are so evil, gnawing on my brain like this. ^_^ Right now, it's a little rough around the edges, but I think I got something going. This fanfic will follow the manga version, so if you haven't read the manga, please, oh please—read it. Now. Everyone here adores LenKaho, right? Then you're in the right place. Please enjoy. :D

Full summary: Len, after a year of studying abroad in Germany, has to return to his old high school music academy in order to gain more volunteer hours teaching younger students in order to return to his studies under his German professor—because volunteer hours just happen to matter so much. When he returns, however, he finds everything he's ever known gone—classical music academy turns into a school for modern music. Even the red-haired girl he loved seems to have changed… This will test his integrity, his life's philosophy, and his decisions. A story of music, love, and the overall universal question of whether or not it's right to change. /LenKaho/

Chapter 1

Pianissimo

.vvv.

A blue-haired young man sat back in his plane seat, staring up into the carry-on cabins above as if he were trying to see his blue violin case right through the cabin walls with those golden eyes of his. Tsukimori wanted to sigh. No, correction: he wanted to yell, to freaking scream at his teacher for sending him back. Only that insane, senile old man would believe that a genius violinist as himself, someone who had spent fucking years perfecting the sound, would need more community service hours.

He had never felt so angry in his entire life. A vein almost seemed to pop on his forehead. Reluctantly, he let out a sigh and looked out the airplane window, admiring all of Japan's beautiful morning features. A small smile tugged at his lips as an ounce of nostalgia took over a part of his heart. In about fifteen minutes after this airplane landed, he'd be off and heading toward his old high school. Well, technically a music academy, but you get the point. 'Seiso Academy…'

The school that was split into two different branches: one with students of general education, and the other where he came from, the music branch where all a music student's life revolved around was, well—music. Music theory, music history, and of course, playing it all day long. It was the life that he adopted, the life that his mother, the famous pianist Hamai Misa, and his father, a man who ran a music industry, followed. Hell, he'd even bet that in the cave man days, his ancestors had picked up some kind of stick and beat another cave man to death just to get a good sound.

But that wasn't what was on Tsukimori's mind when he thought about his old academy. Oh, no. His parents could've been the last thing on his mind. All he could think about when he thought about his old music academy was a certain red-haired girl who always seemed to smile at him, close her eyes at his music, and make wonderful tunes with her own violin. 'Kahoko…' Of course, that was the name that he solely wished he would be able to call her by. Every time he saw her, though, it was always, "Hino" or, if he decided he felt a little more formal than usual, "Hino-san." He still remembered what she told him before he left her on that sidewalk and went back to his taxi and flew to Vienna: "Tsukimori-kun! I'll… I'll work really hard!" A smile tugged at his lips. That girl… she always tried her hardest. 'I wonder if she still remembers me…'

Of course, it would be hard to forget someone who kept reappearing on television for the past year since his debut to the music world. It was already two years… she was supposed to be a first-year in university already, right? He wondered if she had decided to become a music major and head off to Seiso's joint university and smiled at the thought. 'She loves music… of course she would.'

The pilot's voice blasted over the speakers in loud Japanese. "Alright, my fellow passengers, this is your pilot speaking. I hope that you all have had a wonderful flight; please fly on Japan Airlines another time, and thank you all for coming." Click!

The blue-haired man sat there and stared as the other passengers grabbed their carry-ons and made their way to the plane's opening. He really didn't want to join the crowd—too many people plus a socially awkward violinist, and what would you get? A claustrophobia attack. Which was exactly why he was going to wait until after the majority of the other passengers had got off.

"Aye, buddy! You gettin' off, or what? We don't got all day, y'know!"

Or not…

Tsukimori turned to stare coldly at the other passenger, keeping his gaze as he took his blue violin case from the top cabin. He tried to keep from smirking when he saw a strand of fearful respect on the other man's face. "Excuse me, sir," Tsukimori managed coolly, "I didn't notice that I was keeping up a line."

The other man put his hands up, his eyes wide and a sweat already starting to bead on his forehead. "N-No! I-I should be the one who's sorry! Oh, please forgive me, Tsukimori-san."

Ah, the quirks of being famous. With a simple nod, Tsukimori made his way past the crowd and went on his way to find his luggage—then all he had to do afterward was wait. And waiting, to this blue-haired young man, was like a punishment close to death. Catching his suitcase, he went through the passport check-out lines and, once passed, went on through the airport terminals to find a certain raven-haired man waiting for him, holding up a sign that held his surname.

He nodded. "Kira-san," he said respectfully when he had managed to roll his suitcase up to where the older man stood.

"Tsukimori," returned the superintendent of Seiso. "Glad to have you back."

Another smirk tugged at his lips, making him almost want to go right out and say, "Of course you're glad." But, of course, Tsukimori Len, with his beautiful composure and stoic face, would never, ever, ever do something as arrogant and stupid as that.

Did someone else happen to hear Tsuchiura laugh?

As the two of them sauntered over to the elongated car at the front of the terminal—ignoring eager stares from available, desperate ladies, of course—Kira spoke to the prodigal violinist of his circumstances. "Seiso Academy has been awaiting your return, Tsukimori. There are many, ah, eager young faces that wish to meet the violin virtuoso."

"Is that so?" he returned, keeping his golden eyes firm on the raven-haired superintendent.

Kira shifted his legs. "Of course. However…" A pause punctuated the middle of his sentence. "…there has been a slight change while you were gone."

Tsukimori's thoughts immediately shifted to Hino. "A slight change?"

The superintendent pushed down a smirk before he shifted his gaze to the window. "The flowers are blooming quite nicely this year." Total, obvious, elusion.

"What slight change, Kira?" Tsukimori pushed once more, his golden eyes piercing the superintendent's head.

The blue-haired man, however, didn't have to wait that long in order to find out. The moment that he restated his words, the limo came to a smooth stop in front of Seiso Academy's gates, and the driver, already out and at the door, opened it for the men inside. "We've arrived, sirs," spoke the driver, as he took Tsukimori's luggage and set it in front of the gates, giving orders to other men around him to carry the rest. He bowed deeply to the blue-haired man in front of him. "Your room is already set, sir. We do hope that you enjoy your stay." With a nod from Kira, he walked briskly to his limousine and headed off.

Kira headed Tsukimori with his auburn eyes. "Well, then, Tsukimori—I hope you enjoy your stay here. Your first, ah, volunteering session should be tomorrow with the new stringed instrument students in the elementary section. However," paused the superintendent as he pointed to the blue violin case by Tsukimori's leg, "you won't be needing that." Before Tsukimori could question him, the superintendent headed off to his office.

.vvv.

The moment that Kira had gotten into his office, he had already felt that wave of laughter wash over him, barely managing to hold the chuckles in as he leaned against his door. "Oh, Tsukimori," he chuckled, "What terrible timing you have."

"Akihiko Kira, how could you?"

Bright, florescent sparkles burst from midair. In their place, a small elfish being stood (floated?), his eyes shining bright blue and hair tuffed golden curls.

Kira simply stared. "How could I what, Lili?" he asked as he ruffled his black curls.

The blond haired fairy shook his wand in rage. "How could you do such a thing to him? You should have never—"

"I wasn't the one who sent him back for volunteer hours," bilked the superintendent.

"But you were the one who told his—"

Kira waved his hand, scattering the pixie dust away from the air around him. "Enough, Lili; I don't need to hear anything from you. I changed the school as I saw fit, and Tsukimori came back at the wrong time." A smirk slithered across his face. "I'm just wondering what he'll do when he finds out about her." He turned away and looked out of the window, watching as Tsukimori walked behind the men with his luggage. "Tsukimori won't do anything to change how Seiso Academy is. That's not in his character." Kira looked over his shoulder toward the fairy. "Now go. I don't want to see you."

Lili sighed—brought down his wand. Before he left, he stared sadly at the back of the raven-haired man's head and murmured, "I cannot believe that you're related to the man who saved me…" Then, he disappeared in a puff of golden dust, leaving Kira to stare out the window and pretend as if he didn't hear a word that Lili said.

.vvv.

Tsukimori hurried to the performance rooms after all of his things had been settled in, eager (well, eager enough for a Tsukimori Len, anyway) to perform his new song.

It was already school hours, and the halls were empty, devoid of any student footsteps or life. He remembered the steps of the music branch of school so clearly, remembered walking down the hall with his blue violin case in hand (as he did now) and ignoring the fervent looks from the (currently non-existent) high school girls in the hall. He remembered when he saw Hino for the first time, standing in the way of the door to his classroom with an armful of supplies and an annoying Tsuchiura; remembered feeling a twinge of anticipation when he walked into the performance rooms and hoping that she was here to listen on him like how she did the first time accidentally.

Just as he was about to walk in to the same performance room that he had always gone into, he heard a piano accompaniment and someone singing… not opera, not vocalizing, but actual singing. Modern singing.

Everything I can't be is everything you should be

And that's why I need you here

Everything I can't be is everything you should be

And that's why I need you here

So hear this now…

There was a short coughing before it resumed.

Come home, come home

'Cause I've been waiting for you, for so long, for so long

And right now there's a war between the vanities

But all I see is you and me

The fight for you is all I've ever known

So come home...

Tsukimori didn't realize that he was now pressed against the door, unable to move. There was something so familiar in that voice…. He strained his ear to try and hear anything else.

Someone coughed from the other side of the door. A voice said, "Don't strain yourself. It's bad for your voice if you do."

'Tsuchiura?' thought Tsukimori, recognizing the green-haired man's voice. 'If he's in there, then—'

"I'm sorry, Tsuchiura-kun," responded another voice from within before it coughed again. It… no, definitely a she. A red-haired she. "Don't worry, I'm not straining myself." She laughed. "Thank you so much for putting up with me though, Tsuchiura-kun."

Tsukimori's heart thumped in his chest as he slowly pushed his ear away from the door, willing for himself to not hear anymore in order to keep from getting caught. 'That has to be her… but…' The blue-haired man walked into an empty room right next to the room he had been eavesdropping from. '…but why is Hino singing?'

Yes. Exactly—why was she singing? Normally, a music student would only specialize in one area and stick to it. That was why it was called specializing. But now, hearing her sing—and sing a modern, non-opera song, no less—made him more than a little uneasy. He shook off his paranoia and adjusted the violin's shoulder rest. "No," he murmured to himself as he tuned his violin. "Kira probably just added a class… a singing class. That can't be Hino…"

If only he had turned around the moment he had said that so that he could finally see the red-haired girl who was on his mind.

.vvv.

Hino had to sigh. It had already been two years since Tsukimori had left for Vienna, two years since she had seen his face up close and in person and not on television where all the other girls in her class were swooning over him. She bit her lip. The way that Seiso Academy had changed wasn't going to help her get better; it wasn't going to help her up to the virtuoso violinist position that Tsukimori held or help her see him again, talk to him again. He was getting so much better, and she was getting so much worse. "I hope that he's doing okay," she murmured, unaware of the green-haired man's stare.

"Thinking about him again, Hino?" Tsuchiura asked, a little disappointed that she was still thinking of that blue-haired bastard. He swerved away from an anxious first-year as the younger student dashed down the crowded hall.

She gave a sad smile and nodded. "Yeah… I'm so disappointed at myself. Tsukimori's gotten so much better, and I've gotten"—she gestured to her entire being—"like this." She turned to look at Tsuchiura. "I'm not even practicing the violin anymore like I want to, Tsuchiura-kun."

The green-haired man stopped her in the hall with a comforting hand to her shoulder and a tender smile on his lips that he only held for her. "It'll all be okay, Hino." He didn't know if it would be though, but he sincerely hoped that his words carried some sort of truth in them.

And soon, they would.

.vvv.

As Tsukimori made his way down the now busy hallways, he tried not to bump into the many high school students who stared up at him in awe. He held in a sigh when he heard girls "secretly" swooning over him.

"Omigod, I saw him on T.V.!"

"Really?" another one whispered. "Which channel? I wanna watch!"

Someone sighed. "He's such a hottie-hot-hottie."

"I hear that he's a violinist."

Tsukimori wanted to stop. To turn around and face whoever almost seemed to spit the last word that he'd heard as he walked down the hall. What was so wrong with being a violinist?

A student accidentally jostled him in the hall before he held out a steadying hand. "Oh, sorry, Mister!" he exclaimed before he bowed in apology and headed off.

The blue-haired man stared after him. Well, more like stared after the bag he had swung over his shoulder. That bag was too big to be a violin case (and besides, violin cases were rectangular) and too small to be a cello case. Tsukimori raised an eyebrow. 'A….guitar?' He shook it off. There was just another added class that Kira thought was necessary to take. That was it; that was all. He tried not to stumble down the hall as he made his way to the class he was supposed to teach.

.vvv.

Already when he walked in, the whispers started. He stopped a smirk from gracing his lips. 'More people who know about me…' Oh, joy. He stood in front of the class, his blue violin case set down by his side. "Good afternoon, students," he stated, raising his head with the formality in his voice. "My name is Tsukimori Len; you may call me Tsukimori-senpai, considering how I am not much older than most of you." He eyed the students' violins and cleared his throat. "I am here to teach you for the time being about the techniques that every violinist needs to know, music theory, and music history; hopefully we will be able to enjoy each other's presence." He walked over to the front of the room and pulled out the textbook that his had known in his time in high school, and he was about to order the students to open to a certain page when a student in the front raised his hand.

"Um, Tsukimori-senpai," stuttered the young man as he eyed the textbook in Tsukimori's hand, "Superintendent Kira doesn't require teachings from that textbook anymore."

The blue-haired senpai raised an eyebrow as he walked over to the younger student. "Show me your textbook, please, kouhai."

Hesitating a moment, the younger student nodded and quickly brought out the said textbook, placing it in front of his desk for Tsukimori to see, watching the blue-haired man as he studied the front cover.

'Essential Rock, huh?' Tsukimori thought as he turned the textbook around. 'Since when did Kira install a rock unit for violins?'

"Um, Tsukimori-senpai?"

The blue-haired man snapped out of his reverie, finding himself staring down at the timid young man who had offered his textbook to him. "Ah," Tsukimori muttered, handing the textbook back to the kouhai. "My apologies." He was silent for a moment, taking in the information that had practically smacked him flat in the fact before he spoke again. "Actually, before we go to a lesson, would all of you mind playing something for me?" he asked, his gold eyes hardening as he hoped that what he was dealing with wasn't what he thought it was.

How dead wrong he really was.

When the students looked at each other and held the violins up to their necks, nodding to each other in order to start simultaneously, Tsukimori swore that he had felt some part of his face nearly fall to the floor. He stood; he waited; and he listened.

When it was all over, Tsukimori sat back, clutching the sides of the desk as support and knew that something was utterly wrong: the school, formerly full of classical music and music masters, was now flooded with alternative rock and modern tunes.

What the hell had just happened?

.vvv.

Author's note: Okay, so… this first chapter was a little slow, but it will sort of pick up later, when I have all of the plot sorted out. :D Len will meet Kahoko in the second chapter… and hopefully we'll see how that goes down.

So… review, review, review. That always makes me happy. :D Else if you don't, I'll cry and play a sad, depressing song on the smallest violin in the world. :D